Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep
by Screamin-Whispers
Summary: "These services are not free. Payment is required. I think you know what that means, Ciel."


For every action in the world, there has to be a reaction. For every debt there is payment. And for every life there is death. Little boys did not understand such things. The single eye stared up defiantly, shining blue in the velvet black night. As headstrong as ever. As decadent as ever. But there was fear. It lingered in the liquid backdrop, darting to the dark cover of his pupil, which was wide, bare in the night.

Slender fingers stretched, shining pale in the moonlight; reached up to trace the child's cheek. His teeth clenched beneath the soft surface, and the eye flashed with annoyance. The hand met the dark material of the patch the boy wore over his other eye. Slowly, as if all the time in the world was free for use in that night, the hand unknotted the covering, letting it flutter to the ground like a crow with broken wings.

_Ah. _

The purple pentagram, so beautiful, seemed to glow. The mark on the back of the slender hand, black as the nails adorning the fingers, was the mirror image. The two were compared as the red-eyed man stared down at his charge. That, that would be the last time he'd see those eyes look up at him, part annoyance and part need. His perfect lips curved upwards in a hungry little grin, and he saw another flash of stark terror cross the boy's face.

What human doesn't fear death? Not even the great Phantomhive could stand up to such a force.

Delicately, the taller form sat next to the smaller, who tracked his movements warily, body held stiffly upright. Now was not the time to panic, to drop composure. He wished to die with stiff grace. He'd known the end since the beginning; he'd spent hours preparing for his descent. He had his revenge, now it was time to sleep.

The daemon, still dressed like the butler he'd pretended to be, leaned forward, two fingers landing on the underside of the boy's chin, tilting it upwards. The butterfly lips parted slightly, as if already preparing to take their last sweet breath. They did not speak, but the daemon's heavily lidded eyes and the child's too-wide ones expressed everything in the wordless passage of time.

Silly little boy. He was wondering if it would hurt. That was plain to see. But how much could one little kiss hurt?

In a swift, skilled movement, one pair of lips caught the other. The blue haired heir leaned back, suddenly cowed, and the pentagram marked hand reached up to catch the back of his head and prevent his frantic evasion. His mouth was pliable, soft and hesitant. It seemed that his first kiss would also be his last.

After a hesitant moment of sharing breath, the boy reached up and grasped the front of the larger form's jacket, clinging on for dear life as he pressed closer. A soft sound of mixed pain and pleasure escaped his throat as fingers tightened in his blue locks. A tongue darted into his mouth, preventing it from closing as a stirring began in his chest, stealing his breath away and twisting his internal organs painfully.

The boy tried to escape, jerking backwards, but the daemon form pushed him down so he was lying on his back on the stone cold bench, his lips still firm on the other's. The slender hand moved from the boy's hair to his chest, preventing him from moving at all.

Then came the screams. The child began to struggle wildly, weak little fists beating the daemon's chest and arms, wails resounding in the other's mouth. No calm death for him. How could he be calm when a strong hand was pressing his ribcage downwards until it felt as if it might shatter into hundreds of little fragments of bone? When his organs were all twisting, trying to protect his very core from being stolen away by this dark creature.

The odd eyes met the deep red ones during the struggle, pleading. Pleading for what? A swift death or for continued life? Neither of those were possible. He'd signed his soul away, he must reap the consequences. As the daemon pressed his mouth harder against his charge's he could see the purple fading to blue.

The screams stopped abruptly, and Ceil had a single moment to sigh out a final breath into the other's mouth before his body stilled and the eyes, both blue again, went glassy. Sebastian withdrew, satisfied with his payment.

Slender fingers stretched, shining pale in the moon light; ghosted over the child's lids, sending the pale boy to sleep.


End file.
